


The World Moves on Without You, Even in Your Dreams

by So_BringstheNight



Category: One Piece
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Gen, Illnesses, Reincarnation, Self-Insert, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:20:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28638420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/So_BringstheNight/pseuds/So_BringstheNight
Summary: Self-inserts don't always end up with a happy ending.What happens when someone is reincarnated into One Piece and plot armor doesn't exist.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	The World Moves on Without You, Even in Your Dreams

A loud, rattling cough left her mouth. She could feel the bile coming up her throat again. Another hacking cough spat the bile on the ground. Annoyed, the girl wiped her mouth on her sleeve again for the third time that day. Hands lay on her knees as a woman crouched in front of her. 

“Marie, how many times do I have to tell you to use a tissue! You know leaving it to dry on your sleeve only makes it harder for me to clean up.”

She stared ahead at the woman crouching in front of her chair with sand blonde hair and brown eyes looking at her in disappointment. The girl hadn’t noticed the woman walk in, quite a feat with the floorboards creaking all the time from the water that leaked in during the spring. The woman was well endowed, but her body weathered by age and child birth. The neat, yellow summer dress she wore bunched in all the wrong places around her plump form, a cheap product from the market from town. It was quite different compared to the paper-thin fragile limbs of her own figure. Legs that hung limb under a thick blanket of fur. Looking over she saw the tub of soapy water and the rag made of her old pants. Fingers snapped in front of her face. 

“Marie. Marie. Marie! Are you listening to me?” In her hand was a towel containing the mess from before. She graced the woman with a grimace. The woman sighed and switched to a softer tone, crouching down to face the girl. The hand on her knee returned, but lighter in touch.

“I know it's hard dear, you’ve had a weak body since you were born and you missed out on a lot of your life, but please at least try, if not for me, for you?” The girl stayed silent, choosing to look out the window of her bedroom instead. The woman sighed. 

“I’ll bring up lunch in a couple of minutes okay?” Marie hummed. The woman sighed again and quietly shut the door. She knew the woman was disappointed in her lack of verbal response, but honestly she couldn’t gather up the strength to give a shit. 

Marie sat in her chair by her bed studying the window. It was high noon and the sun cast short shadows beyond the tree branches. The snow sparkled white as the heaps of fluff twinkled and taunted her from outside. Just beyond the giant heaps of the snow, the docks were bustling with activity. The ships at port were miniscule from the second story bedroom, but if she squinted she could see the flags flapping in the winter air. 

_Don’t you want to play with me, Marie?_ , they called. 

_We’re waiting for you, Marie._

_Wouldn’t you love to come out to sea and play?_

_Remember the crunch of the sand underfoot?_

_The waves that lapped at your ankles, freezing your toes._

_The crust of white foam sweeping onto the white deck._

_Don’t you remember me, Marie?_

_Don’t you remember me?_

_Don’t you remember?_

_Don’t you remember me,_ **_Sarah?_ **

Stubby pencils and cheap plastic pens clattered loudly in the near silent room on the floorboards. The metal can holding them rolled off the desk and hit the floor with a clink. 

_SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP_ **_SHUT UP_ **

She caught a glance at the wrinkled wanted posters left on her desk. She looked away, the anger giving way to a blanketing tiredness. The girl didn’t need to read them to know what they said.

WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE

MONKEY D. LUFFY

400,000,000

WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE

RORONOA ZORO

120,000,000

WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE

NICO ROBIN

80,000,000

Even with the few bounty posters she could find, she knew. She knew it was too late. Sarah remembered. Sarah remembered a world of shining machines and little metal boxes playing pictures and telling a story. Sarah remembered a story of a boy with a golden straw hat and red ribbon wrapped neatly around it. A boy with a smile that melted the heart of even the coldest hunters. Someone who got up time and time again, blood dripping down his knuckles, to protect his friends. His _nakama._

When she was young, and naive, she had stared out at the sea endlessly, thinking maybe they would miraculously show up and whisk her away on a whirlwind of adventure. She thought that even in the furthest reaches of South Blue, maybe, just maybe they would come for her. After all, she was special right? Why else would she be reborn into a world already speaking full sentences, a whole life behind her? But she was an ignorant child, even with a life-time of experience. As her health continued to decline, and her legs gave out, her heart was still clinging to some childish dream that looked at this _story_ with rose-tinted glasses. 

It was nothing big. No epiphany or massive realization. 

One day, she stopped and looked around and saw nothing. She was the same girl she had always been. The woman now had strands of grey scattered across her head, and the man was gone, five feet under. But she, she was the same. Sitting in her chair, long weathered by active use, she just knew that this was the end. There was no grand adventure. 

And so Sarah sat. 

And Sarah simmered. 

And Sarah died. 

And Marie, Marie took her place. A quiet girl who stared at nothing and coughed up blood on occasion. She had legs that wouldn’t support her weight and arms that could barely lift a cup. 

What use was a life like this?

Sarah didn’t want this life. And neither did Marie.

And sitting on her desk, right there was a pen knife. 

A shiny little thing, rimmed with gold around the handle. 

  
  


She reached over and put a hand on it.

...

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


But no. Marie was not many things. 

And deep, deep down, she was a _coward._

The penknife joined the other stationary on the ground. 

Ship flags continued to flap. 

A lone squirrel scurried across the white plain. 

The world moved on. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, hope y'all enjoyed! :)


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